MyStory

Encrusted with little pieces of jewels in varying sizes and colours bathed in a royal purple base, this precious ashtray was a beloved possession of my late dad. It's his silent companion as he smokes on a lazy sunday afternoon.

He got this ashtray from his mother (my grandmother) after she passed on and being an appreciator of all things beautiful and unique, the ashtray naturally took its place amongst his favourite possessions. I am often mesmerised by the sparkling jewels reflecting in the sunlight on his table, watching my late dad taking long and slow puffs of smoke and gently tipping the cigarette into the ashtray at regular intervals.

I was allowed to run my little fingers against the fragile jewels gently and often tried to spy my reflection reflected in the small pieces of fragments. It was lovely, and after my dad passed on, the ashtray now stands at my desk as a tangible memory of my late dad. The faint whiffs of fragrant smoke still lingers on. Often, I run my fingers lovingly across the jewels, spying my reflection and drinking in the memories of my him long ago.

Was it a trick of the eye? Sometimes, I thought I saw my late dad's reflection reflected in the tiny fragments of the jewel on the ashtray. He was smiling. Just like before.

Article migrated from original My Story Portal 2007.
Author. Aredialwise